We're Still Here
by Ice-Cold-Diamonds
Summary: Set a few weeks after the ending of ACOMAF. Rated T just in case. 'She realized then what a fool she had been for not coming earlier, for being so full of hate and stubbornness to not see things clearly, to not face what he'd gone through; what he was still going through. How could she be so blind to his suffering'
1. Chapter 1

**QUICK A/N: Just a little something I wrote, basically because all my favourite Nessian fics haven't been updated in 3+ weeks and I'm deprived. My idea is to keep this a two-shot but I may expand to three or four chapters depending on the response I get after the second chapter. Please review but above all, enjoy!**

Nesta was sorting through her closet when a bright chime resonated throughout her small, but spacious, two story apartment. It used to feel cosy when she shared the house with Elain but when the sister's decided that time spent in their own space was needed, and the younger of the two moved out, a lot of the homier items vacated the premises as well.

"How are you feeling?" she called to her intruder as she made her way downstairs, knowing that the only person confident enough to disturb her at this hour of the morning would be Elain.

When she made it to the bottom floor she saw that Elain had already made her way into the kitchen. The younger sister sighed, "Not fantastic. I made a tea this morning."

"From the herbs in your new garden?" Elain had decided on a house on the outskirts of Velaris, still within walking distance of Nesta's home, but far enough that she had access to a little bit more front and backyard space.

"Mm-hmm." she nodded. "The plants and flowers are thriving. There must be something in the water."

"Something." the woman agreed, not entirely following the conversation. Nesta was more interested on the perfect ratio of jam to bread. "Did the tea taste nice?"

Elain shrugged her shoulders and sat at the breakfast bar. "It tasted like medicine, which I guess means it will be good for my cold right?"

"Theoretically."

Elain's small smile changed to a frown as she coughed into her elbow. "Have you got any plans for today?"

Nesta shook her head and sat across from her sick sister. "I was hoping to start reading some of those books we bought the other day; the one on mythical creatures sounded the least gag worthy."

Elain's eyes rolled and her whole body caved in as she slumped in her seat. "You know how much I hate it when you do that."

"Do what?" The older sibling asked innocently.

"You know exactly 'what'. You start off the day in a pleasant way and then two minutes in you revert back to 'Nasty Nesta'. I wish your two personalities would go separate ways."

Nesta's toast crunched as she took a bite. "If they did you'd be left with the evil one. 'Nasty Nesta' is a bit of a dominant control freak. I think she'd destroy 'Nice Nesta' without a second thought." she mocked, even if her sister's comment had stung slightly.

"Whatever. I came to ask a favour."

Forgetting the slight dint in her ego, Nesta took one of Elain's hands in hers. "Anything you need, you know that."

"It's about Cassian."

"Anything but that." Nesta replied, immediately letting go of her sister.

Elain's eyes seemed to enlarge as her mouth turned into a pout. "Please, Ness. Rhys, Az and Mor have gone looking for a cure, I have a seriously irritating and relentless sickness and Amren has been with him for three days straight. She's tired and hungry and she needs a break." Elain paused before adding, "She can't see him like that anymore."

"Cassian's a big boy." Nesta rebutted, standing to fetch herself a glass of juice, "He can look after himself."

Her sister's gaze turned solemn as she replied, "No, Nesta, he can't."

She knew Elain was right, that Cassian was far too injured to even get up and make himself something to eat, but none of that mattered to Nesta. She was avoiding that brute of a man for as long as she possibly could. The only reason she finally gave in was for her Elain.

"Alright, fine!" She placed her glass on the counter top and pointed a finger at her younger sister. "But only because you're in no condition to look after anyone but yourself right now."

…

She climbed towards his homestead, the cobbled path hard and cool underneath her feet. The air that flowed through the alleyways and streets was stirred into a flurry of wind, bringing smells of hearty stew along with it. Nesta took a deep breath and gazed skywards; the clouds a mixture of dark and light grey, signifying the impending storm.

When the first drops began to fall she found herself, for the first time, glad that she was close to Cassian's house. Nesta readjusted her sweater and continued, the front door now in sight.

She approached the two story, brick home with a combination of animosity and fear. Mustering up as much courage as she could find she stepped onto his door front, lifting her hand to knock on the navy blue wood.

Amren was there almost instantly, her face drawn in a tired frown. She barely said a word to Nesta before handing her the keys and leaving. The Archeron woman didn't mind. She never cared much for Amren or for small talk, and Elain had already given Nesta the necessary information regarding Cassian's situation; four meals a day, as much water as he'll drink, pain medication (morning and night), keep the fire in his room stocked. She was also told that during the night a soothing serum would have to be applied, but that Cassian refused whenever he was awake for the process.

It wasn't a very long list of things but Nesta had written them down none the less. She wasn't exactly fond of the man right now, but she didn't want him to go through this, so she listened intently as her sister rambled.

Elain had also warned her about the state of his wings, describing them in a way that made his perseverance sound like the most difficult, and therefore admirable, task in the world. But no amount of vivid description would have prepared her for what she saw.

Nesta made her way upstairs, the scent of sweat and blood filling her nostrils. However, not even that could have distracted her from the sight of him.

She stood in the bedroom doorway, a hand over her mouth, a gasp caught in her throat.

Nesta's eyes began to water as they drifted over Cassian. He was lying on his stomach, his face turned to the side and tight with pain as he slept. His wings were completely devoid of life, dropping carelessly onto the mattress. They lay in a mess of dark, shredded fabric, woven together in pieces with blisters and welts, and glued with blood and puss.

The tears welled in Nesta's eyes and she dabbed at them with her sleeve before they could fall down her cheeks. She forced herself closer but wanted nothing more than to run in the other direction. Nesta sat in the arm chair by the open window and welcomed the fresh air. Her gaze turned to his face, a sheen of sweat atop his pale features, his dark curls stuck to his forehead in places.

Nesta thought she'd be filled with anger when she saw him, thought she'd be reminded of what happened at Hybern, but the truth was, she wasn't mad at Cassian. He was in pieces and he still tried to get to her. The last thing she saw before she went under was him, struggling against his pain to reach her.

No. Her hatred was for the asshole who forced her and her sister into that cauldron, the king who did not deserve to rule. And yet she had avoided Cassian.

She realised then what a fool she had been for not coming earlier, for being so full of hate and stubbornness to not see things clearly, to not face what he'd gone through; what he was still going through. How could she be so blind to his suffering?

A groan interrupted her self-loathing and her vision sharpened to see the Illyrian toss in his sleep. The movement alone made him cry out and she realised then that his screams of agony were physically affecting her. Nesta's heart seized in her chest and only released its constricting hold on her when his nightmares released their hold on him.

The newly-made fae stood then, making her way towards his bed. She knelt beside him, one hand brushing the hair from his face and the other placed gently on his arm. "I'm staying." she whispered.

And although his breathing came in short and sharp, raspy gasps, Cassian seemed to relax at her words.

…

It was morning when Nesta woke, tired and stiff from her uncomfortable night sleep. She opted for the chair by the window and placed the other from Cassian's desk close by, using it as some kind of footstool. It wouldn't have been that bad had her roommate not made as much noise. Every hour or so he had roused her awake with his tossing and turning and occasional sleep-talking (something she would no doubt bug him about when he came to).

With that image in mind she went downstairs to organise breakfast. Nesta wasn't sure how big his appetite was going to be so she buttered two pieces of bread and heated some of the leftover soup, hoping it would be filling enough. She crushed the pain medication and mixed it into the soup, knowing that the hard-headed man upstairs would deny the fact that he was even in pain.

After preparing the food she placed the components on a tray, along with a simple glass of water and some cutlery, and tried desperately not to spill anything as she made her way back to Cassian's room.

When she entered he was still sleeping, a light snore filling the room. Nesta placed the food on his bedside table and went to the adjoining bathroom to wash her hands. She hadn't really thought of her appearance until then and when she looked at her reflection she quickly washed and dried her face, immediately feeling more awake. Nesta found a small comb in one of the drawers under the basin and gave her hair a quick run through before braiding it.

She'd managed to weave the top section when a voice disturbed her momentum. "Good morning, sweetheart."

Cassian's voice was weak, but his teasing tone shone through, hinting that he had seen her fussing in front of the mirror. Nesta tried to hide the ridiculous blush on her cheeks as she turned to face him. She finished the top section in a normal plait, leaving her bottom layers to hang loosely over her shoulders; it was messy but she didn't mind, and she doubted that he would either.

"Good morning, Commander." She replied and stalked over to his large bed, leaning against one of the four posts at its corners. It lifted her spirits slightly to see him sitting up and facing her. "How are you this morning?"

"Never better." He smiled with a warmth that didn't quite reach his hazel eyes. What did make them light up however, was the food next to him. "Is that for me?"

Nesta scoffed and sat on the bed, facing him. She stretched her legs out, her feet coming in line with his knees. "If it was for me that bowl would be empty."

Cassian's small smile widened, forming a devilish grin. "So you made this, huh?"

Nesta wasn't stupid. She was well aware of the traditions of the fae, especially ones relating to the mating bond, and she was not going to give Cassian any encouragement so she smiled and told him, "Amren heated it up before she left. If you were awake five minutes ago you could have said goodbye."

The Illyrian's smile faltered and he dropped his gaze, now incredibly focused on the meal in front of him.

He began to shovel a few scoops of the soup into his mouth and, after she was convinced he'd continue once she was gone, Nesta stood up. "I'll leave you to eat in peace."

"Nesta," he spoke, it seemed, before he'd thought through what he was going to say. It was as if his mouth was moving without his minds approval but she didn't interrupt as he added, "Stay. Please. You're the first person I've seen since-" Cassian stopped abruptly, as if he couldn't bring himself to physically say the words. "You're the first person I've seen since this happened," he continued slowly, more carefully, "who hasn't looked at me like I'm completely broken."

And that's because Nesta was determined not to stare at him with pity. She had to admit though, it was hard to look at him, at the condition of his wings, and see even a sliver of hope. Truthfully, she didn't.

So instead of telling him exactly what he wanted to hear, the young woman sat back down on the bed, this time next to him, leant back and whispered, "You're not the only piece of damaged goods in the city of starlight."

Cassian fell asleep shortly after that, and didn't wake again until the late hours of the night. Nesta asked if he'd wanted anything to eat, to which he shook his head and simply requested some more water.

"I hate making you do this." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his face scrunching with the movement of his arm.

Nesta remained by the doorway, even though she felt the urge to run to his bedside at the image of him in pain. "I don't mind doing it."

The male dropped the argument, and Nesta figured he knew that if she truly disliked it, she would have been doing a hell of a lot more complaining.

On her way back from retrieving a fresh glass of water, Nesta stopped by the medicine cabinet. She grabbed the night serum, a jar of deep blue cream, and headed back upstairs.

As soon as she walked through the threshold of his bedroom he shook his head. "No way. That stuff stinks, and if that isn't enough reason, in case you haven't heard, an Illyrian's wings are extremely sensitive."

Nesta simply waved a hand in his direction as she made her way towards the bed. She spoke in a slow, almost sensual tone, "Oh, I've heard a great deal about an Illyrian's wings."

The fae twirled her fingers in a circular motion, gesturing for him to turn around. He groaned into a pillow as he lay on his stomach. Nesta smirked, knowing this was going to make him very uncomfortable. She was going to enjoy watching him squirm.

"You are an incredibly cruel woman, Nesta Archeron." he muttered as she smeared the first dollop across a section of his macerated wings. Cassian went incredibly still after that and remained quiet for almost the entirety of the process, releasing almost inaudible winces of discomfort and some noises that could be interpreted as moans.

Nesta sat back, crossing her legs and focused intensely on any parts she may have missed. "I think I got most of it."

"Thank gods for that. How bad do they look? I can't bring myself to go to the mirror." Cassian remained quite light hearted, but Nesta knew he'd been dreading the question.

The oldest Archeron woman bit her lip. "I don't think you'll be flying for a while, Cass."

The man sat up straighter. It pained her to see how much effort went into an ordinarily effortless task. "I may not be able to fly right now, sweetheart," A small amount of colour returned to his once tan cheeks, the seriousness from mere seconds ago vanishing, "but I assure you," he paused, "everything else is in perfect working condition."

With a huff and a roll of her eyes she retorted, "Go to sleep, jack ass."

He laughed then, for the first time in what she assumed had been so long, he had laughed, and she found herself quietly laughing with him as she took up her seat by the window.

Nesta had read while he slept and used the opportunity to assess his wounds from afar. What she'd said earlier was the sugar coated version. Nesta honestly wasn't sure if he'd ever fly again. His wings weren't healing and her instincts were telling her that when the others returned, they would bring with them nothing but bad news.


	2. Chapter 2

_Nesta honestly wasn't sure if he'd ever fly again. His wings weren't healing and her instincts were telling her that when the others returned, they would bring with them nothing but bad news._

…

Nesta's instincts were right. Rhysand called a meeting the following afternoon at the House of Wind. Elain had organised two healers to come and watch over Cassian whilst the others held their gathering. It consisted of the high lord, his inner circle (excluding the injured Illyrian) and the two Archeron sisters.

"It's not good." Rhys said sadly. "We went to as many trusted healers as we could, even a few witches who have helped us in the past, but none knew of anything powerful enough to save Cass' wings."

Nesta had distanced herself from the conversation. She stood outside on the balcony, her body leaning back against the pillar (she had felt so drained the past few days), while the others piled into the couches within earshot.

Amren spoke up, "So, we let him heal on his own. We buy some basic ointments, keep him sanitary and continue to get as much food in him as we can. The pain meds will help with the long process." Nesta could hear the desperate tones in her speech.

Azriel looked deflated and shook his head. Mor sat on the arm of his chair and if Nesta hadn't been watching closely she wouldn't have seen the blonde lean into him.

"He won't heal on his own." Rhys spoke, his voice strong. "He's not going to heal full stop."

Elain's eyes widened. "What are you saying?"

Nesta's brother-in-law sighed, "His wounds are infected. We've all seen it; the constant layer of sticky, red-black blood, the puss flowing in streams and clotting in places, the redness of his back." Rhysand stood and began to pace. "He's only going to get worse. If we don't amputate," Nesta became alert at the word "we may lose him to the infection. It will spread, eventually making its way into his bloodstream."

"What?" Elain asked, her eyes beginning to water. She was always someone who attached to people easily, one to absorb, amplify and then project the emotions of others.

"If the sickness spreads he'll die." Azriel clarified in a blunt but gentle way and Mor placed a hand on his shoulder.

"So amputation is the only option?" Amren asked in rushed speech, almost willing the conversation to be over.

"Yes." Rhys answered solemnly. "I don't like it. I wish there was another way, but there isn't. And the longer we wait, the worse it will be for him." There was silence for many moments before he talked again. "I'll tell him when I see him at dinner."

The three closest to him agreed to go with him but Nesta questioned the decision. "Why tell Cassian at all?" she asked, "You know how he'll react. He'd rather die with his wings than live without them."

Rhys ran a hand through his dark hair. "I will not do this without his knowledge, Nesta."

"But what good will telling him do?"

"What good will lying do? He'll go to sleep with wings and then he'll wake up with nothing but a gaping hole in his heart. And what do you think he'll do when he figures out that it was us, that we were the ones that went behind his back without consent and stole such a treasured part of him?"

Rhys' voice was on the verge of breaking point but Nesta wasn't giving in. "Consent? Consent? You think you're going to tell him your plan and he's just going to accept it? 'Oh yeah guys, that's cool. Take away the thing I love most in this world. Go ahead. I'm A-Okay with it.'"

No one said anything. The group avoided her gaze, clearly they were all siding with the high lord.

Nesta couldn't believe it. How could they not see what he would do when he found out?

"Fine." She threw her hands up. "Majority rules. I get it. But don't expect me to be a part of this anymore. I don't want anything to do with it."

And with that final statement she left, trying her hardest to slam the door on her way out for good measure. She didn't care that she had five thousand steps to walk down before she got back to her city she would _climb_ five thousand steps just to get away from them.

"Idiots." She muttered. And they were. They were idiots for not seeing the repercussions of their scheme, for not seeing the consequences their actions would have.

…

A whole day passed before Nesta saw any of them again.

She guessed it was a few hours passed midnight when a knock rang throughout the floors of her home. Dressed in only her night gown, Nesta pulled on her light silk robe and headed downstairs.

"You were right." Morrigan admitted as soon as Nesta opened the door. The blonde looked dishevelled, a mix of sleep deprivation and starvation, so she invited her inside.

"What happened?" Nesta asked, placing the girl at the breakfast bar before turning to make some tea.

Mor sighed, her head in her hands. "Cass tried to kill himself." Nesta froze, a small amount of hot water burning her fingers before she realised and moved the pot away. "Rhys told him earlier tonight and when I came up to give him his food he seemed to be sleeping, as if he hadn't really heard or comprehended the news, so I simply left the meal and his water by his bedside."

Tears were spilling down Mor's cheeks slowly. Nesta moved to sit next to her, the tea forgotten, her only thoughts of Cassian. "I should have stayed with him." She continued, crying. "He smashed the glass and used it to slit his wrists." she sobbed, "How could I just leave that there for him? Deep down I knew he'd try something like that but my mind was so clouded and cluttered and I just wasn't thinking. Nesta, how could I let this happen?"

The blonde cried into Nesta's shoulder. "Listen to me. You made a mistake and you have to find a way to deal with that." She pulled her back to look her in the eyes. "But he's alive and right now, that's what matters."

And truthfully, because she was more concerned with Cassian than the woman in front of her she added, "Would you like some company on your walk home?", hoping she would get the hint.

Mor leant back, wiped her cheeks and smiled. "I'll be fine. I know this is I lot to ask, and that you said yourself you didn't want to be a part of this, but could you swing by in the morning and check on Cass' place for me?"

Nesta lifted an eyebrow. "His place or the people inhabiting it?"

"The second one." She smiled sadly.

"I'll go now."

"Thank you, Nesta." Her reply was sorrowful. "I'd go myself but I don't think I'd actually be able to step inside."

"That's understandable."

Mor nodded. The two exchanged a quick, awkward hug and went their separate ways.

…

A half-hour later and she was running through Cassian's front door way. She didn't bother to knock, which may be why her sister jumped when she entered. Nesta probably looked a mess as well; hair down, chest heaving and dressed in only a silk nightgown and robe entirely too cold for this hour.

"You heard?" Elain queried when she composed herself.

"Mor came to see me. Why didn't you?"

Elain sighed, "I couldn't leave. Rhys was a mess and it was clear Mor couldn't be here so I sent her home. I figured you'd find out eventually. Besides, I didn't think you wanted to be a part of this?"

Her sister was snapping and Nesta knew it was only because she was exhausted however, she couldn't help but defend herself.

"This is exactly why I was against telling him! I knew what he would do and I-" Elain cut her off.

"So why weren't you here, Nesta? If you knew how he'd react? It was clear you didn't agree but you were outnumbered. The least you could have done was stay, or did you not want to hurt your precious ego?"

Elain's voice was growing louder and Nesta practically jumped down her throat to shut her up. "I figured someone would be with him at all times. I didn't want to be around to see him suffer, to hear his cries – his anger." Nesta refused to cry, but she's always been stubborn and in an act of defiance a single tear rolled down her cheek.

After several long moments Elain asked, "Why?", but Rhysand's voice from upstairs brought an end to the conversation. Nesta was relieved. She didn't know how to answer Elain's question.

…

"Can you bring some food up here, please?"

The oldest Archeron could see her sister deflate at the question and she placed her hand on Elain's shoulder, doing her best to ignore their fight. "Go home. I'll stay for a while."

"I thought you didn't want to be here?"

"Well, I am now." she sighed, "Get some rest. Be back here tomorrow."

Elain saluted her big sister before pulling her into a hug. "I love you, you know. No matter how many times we raise our voices."

"Love you too." Nesta squeezed, "Walk safe."

Elain smiled and shut the front door behind her.

Nesta prepared another tray of soup and bread, tapping Rhys on the shoulder as she stood in the hallway. She gave him a look that said, 'I'm pissed but I care.' She nodded her head in the direction of the guest bedroom and added a second glance, 'I've got this.'

Rhys shot her an apologetic look followed by a grateful one as he walked away.

Cassian was awake when she entered, turned on his side and facing away from the light. He hadn't noticed her straight away but mumbled a, "Get out." when she sat the food on his bedside table.

Nesta tried to act indifferent towards him, "I'll do no such thing.", but it hurt. How could a person change so much in less than twenty four hours. The last time she saw him they were laughing together. He was smiling. But the person on that bed looked like he'd never give the world that gift again. He, now matching his wings, was devoid of life.

"I don't want you here."

She walked into the ensuite to wash her hands and glanced back over her shoulder, making eye contact with him, "I don't care." But she did and there was a part of herself that hated the compassion she felt for this man, hated that the lack of a spark in his hazel eyes made her feel such sadness.

"Leave."

"Eat and I will."

She had lied. He had known it.

Cassian ignored her exceptionally well after that. He didn't touch the food she'd prepared and he hadn't even taken a sip from the glass of water when she took the meal away three hours later.

Nesta needed a break from the silence, the eerie quiet that closed in on them both, to the point where Nesta felt she was close to suffocating. So when Rhysand knocked on the door and said something about getting herself dinner she practically fell out of her seat in her haste to leave.

She was finding it incredibly difficult to keep up her uninterested, unaffected act and knew that if the High Lord hadn't come in, she would have broken down eventually. And whether that crack in her façade resulted in a flurry of tears or a furious tantrum, she wasn't entirely sure.

She ran her hands through her hair. Nesta hated it. Hated everything about this gods damn situation. She hated seeing Cassian give up. She hated that he couldn't see the worth he still held.

Her throat was closing up again. Her breaths came in more shallow puffs and her brain ached in a warning of the oncoming headache.

"Nesta?"

Azriel was sitting at the dining table, not three feet from where she was currently trying so hard not to fall apart. The shadow-singer met her gaze, and if the house wasn't so dark, she would have been certain that she saw tears in his eyes. His eyes; they were filled with concern, but not for her, for him.

"He's not good." Nesta spoke and her voice trembled slightly.

"I thought I'd check on Mor." He said it as if his actions weren't justified, as if he'd betrayed Cassian by leaving his side.

"How is she?" Nesta asked as the Illyrian stood and made his way towards her.

"Terrible." Azriel stopped next to her at the bottom of the staircase. He stared at the floor above while she stared at the door. "Do you think it's a bad idea to go up there?"

Nesta sighed. "I honestly have no idea." Her head fell into her hands as she rubbed her eyes. "He's different."

"Understandable. It's bound to take him some time to adjust."

"No, Azriel," she placed a hand on his arm, pulling with the slightest amount of pressure so he'd look at her, "he's not the same."

He placed his palm over hers for the smallest of moments before turning back and ascending the stairs. She waited a few minutes, until she heard both his and Rhysand's voices, and then followed.

…

When Nesta stood in the door way, she was reminded of how close the three of these males were. Azriel was sat on the left side of Cassian's bed, long legs stretched and ankles crossed in front of him. Rhysand was on the other side, the desk chair pulled so close to Cassian that Rhys could have rested his elbows on Cass' chest.

None of them spoke. But the silence was different to the one she encountered with him no less than ten minutes earlier. The atmosphere was comfortable, contempt, and she knew that even though Cassian would have been disgusted in the choices they made on his behalf, he loved them, wanted them with him. They were his family.

Then something changed, and the air went cold, and the three of them stiffened.

"Why are you still here, Nesta?" she flinched. There was no emotion behind his words, just a deep exhaustion as if her simply being around tired him.

"Why?" her voice cracked. Salty water began to build in her eyes as she stepped into his bedroom. "I should be the one asking you that. I came to help, Cassian," the tears fell as she spoke his name, "and you ordered me to get out, to leave. Why?" her words came out broken.

He pushed back the covers and stood, using every piece of strength he had, and whilst his brothers were shocked, they made themselves scarce, understanding that this tension needed release. "You honestly don't know?" His voice was low but there was power behind each word. "You can't figure out why I wouldn't want you here?"

Nesta sobbed silently, biting her lip to stop her face from crumbling. She couldn't open her mouth, couldn't speak even if she wanted to.

Cassian took a pained step towards her. "You remind me of what my life could have been."

"You, Nesta Archeron," and he said her name differently, as if she was the guardian angel at the end of a reoccurring nightmare, "brought something new into my life. From the moment I met you I knew I had to know you, and I knew I needed you from the moment you stood up to those insufferable mortal Queens.

Late at night, when the sky was decorated with stars and the rest of the city slept, I thought of you; of this captivating woman beyond the wall who cloaked herself in fire and hated my kind. I thought about the idiocy of my attraction and the impossibility of the entire situation but despite the odds, I couldn't help it – I let myself fall for you.

And even though I knew there was no hope for the two of us, I let myself envision a life with you in it, at the centre of it.

But then my wings were sacrificed and the last thing I remembered before I woke was you, the woman who constantly plagued my thoughts, being thrust into that fucking cauldron and turned into something you despised.

And I knew that whatever future, whatever fairy-tale I'd allowed myself to create was shattered beyond repair."

She took a step towards him and then another and another until they were so close she could have ran her fingers along his death-sentenced wings. Instead she reached her arms around his neck, finally allowing her sobs to break free from their confinement.

It took several long moments before Cassian wrapped his arms around her waist and wrested his head atop of hers.

They stayed like that for quite some time, finding comfort in the simple things; the feeling of their bodies pressed against each other, the warmth of his hands on the small of her back and the feeling of her fingers running over his shoulders.

"I love you, Cassian," Nesta whispered without thinking, as if it were the most natural thing in the world and she smiled into his neck, placing a kiss to his smooth skin, "with or without the wings."

She could feel his body shake as his own tears fell and she pulled back just enough to see his face, to wipe them away with her thumb.

"This is the part where you say it back, dumb ass."

Cassian laughed and Nesta would have collapsed at the sound had it not been for his muscled biceps keeping her against his equally muscled chest. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, her temple, her cheek, her jaw and finally her lips.

Nesta melted. She ran one hand through his dark curls, the other moving from his face to his chest, coming to rest above his heart.

The Illyrian broke the kiss slowly, ignoring her whimper of disapproval and stared into the Archeron's eyes. "I love you, Nesta. With every piece of me that's still left standing, I love you."

She feels it snap into place when he says those words, the bond that both of her sisters have already experienced, and she's certain he feels it too because he sits back on the bed, pulling her down to straddle his lap, and slowly unclasps the buttons on the back of her nightgown.


End file.
